


One Kiss

by satanchangedmypresets



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satanchangedmypresets/pseuds/satanchangedmypresets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Purgatory, Dean hasn't spoken to Castiel in five years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Kiss

It’s been seven years since the Leviathan tried to take over humanity, six years since Purgatory, and five years since he’s said more than four words to Castiel. He still remembers those last four words, said brokenly as the angel tried to offer comfort in that wordless way of his even as he bled openly onto the ground. It hadn’t mattered to him then that Castiel had nearly been butchered alive trying to save them. 

It only mattered that Castiel had saved him and not saved Sammy. 

His hair is longer now and he’ll sometimes go weeks without shaving. Without Bobby, without Sammy, without Castiel, he just drives until he finds a job. Kill monster, find a willing fuck, move on. It’s a mindless monstrous routine but it’s his routine and he does it dutifully. 

There are times when he’s drunk alone in his motel room that the loneliness is unbearable and he wants to call out to Castiel because he knows that he’ll come. Loyal as fuck, Castiel was, and that just makes him even more miserable. Because Dean hasn’t said a word to him in five years and he knows, without a doubt, that the moment he says Castiel’s name, the angel will be right there. 

Because no one ever loved him the way Castiel did. 

Fake it ‘til you make it. 

The mantra resounds in his head as he drives to the next time. Smile until the end of this week. Then do it again next week. And the next week. Until weeks turn into months and months turn into years and suddenly five years have passed and you miss your best friend but you don’t have the fucking nerve to say you’re fucking sorry. 

“How long has it been?”

He looks up at the blonde bartender he’d just been hitting on and she wears a sad smile. 

“Since?” he asked quietly. The whiskey doesn’t burn anymore and he thinks he just may have lost the ability to drink himself into oblivion. 

“Since you last talked to him. Your best friend.”

Shit. Had he said that last bit out loud? Maybe he’d had more to drink that he thought. 

“Five years. Give or take.”

She shakes her head. “You men and your inability to talk about how you feel. You know what? Nut up or shut up. Go call him.”

He frowns at her and she takes his glass. “No more until you call him.”

“I can go somewhere else.” 

“Not in your condition.”

He sighs, pays his tab, and walks back to the motel. The hell if he’s going to call Castiel after five years just because some dumb bar wench tells him to.

“Cas?” 

The words slip from his mouth as he leans against the brick of a back alley. Just as expected, the wind rustles with the sound of wings and just like that, Castiel is standing a few feet in front of him. For a moment, the angel’s sinfully blue eyes are filled with concern and anguish before it’s carefully masked behind cool indifference. 

“Dean.”

Dean glances down, running a hand awkwardly through his hair. 

“Hey…Cas.”

A flash of anger flits through the angel before it too is hidden away. Dean shakes his head. 

“Yell at me, if you want to. I deserve it.”

Something flickers across Castiel’s face. “No, you don’t. You lost your brother, Dean. Your reaction was…expected.”

Somehow, that makes Dean feel even worse. Castiel knew that he would treat him just like a dog you don’t want anymore and he did it anyway. Took the abuse, took it all, without question, without fail, because he was so loyal. 

“I just wish…” Castiel said softly and Dean jerked himself out of his own thoughts. “…that maybe…you would have thought of those you were leaving behind.”

Dean laughed. “Who was I leaving behind, Cas? I didn’t have anyone, not one single person left.”

“You had me. You  _have_ me.”

And once again, Dean feels like the worst person on Earth. Nah, better yet, worst person in Hell. He should probably get some kinda fucking award for douchebaggery. 

“I only ever tried to do what you asked of me but I failed. I’m sorry.”

Dean looked up then, flashing back to that night in the rain, the puddles red with his and Castiel’s blood, cradling Sam’s broken body. 

_“Dean…”_

_“Get away from me.”_

_Hurt flashed through Castiel’s eyes but he went with a flurry of wind and rustling wings._

Dean looked into Castiel’s eyes then and understood that for five years, he had never been alone. Castiel had failed to do what he asked but instead, had given him what he needed. Castiel…who never left his side, not once, in all this time. Even when he thought he wasn’t wanted. 

“Please…” Castiel said softly and Dean felt his heart break. “…don’t make me leave you again.”

Dean smiled weakly. “Nah, I won’t. I think I like having you around.”

Castiel smiles then. It’s not much, Dean knows, but it’s a start. 

“So…let’s go then.”

Castiel starts to follow but Dean turns, waving him forward. 

It’s been seven years since the Leviathan tried to take over humanity, six years since Purgatory, and five years since he’s said more than four words to Castiel. Now it takes only three steps to close the gap between them, two seconds to talk himself into it, and one kiss to tell Castiel everything he’s ever wanted to say.


End file.
